Songbird (8 page)

He
brushed the hair from my forehead and I almost pulled away from him, startled. 
“You’re so lovely,” he whispered.  His gaze swept over my face, my hair and
then my nightgown.  “I promise to be gentle, but may I kiss and touch you?”

“You’re
already touching me,” I said, as he caressed my cheek.

“You
know what I mean,” he laughed softly. 

I
nodded.

His
lips kissed mine tenderly and I wasn’t prepared for how it would feel.  The
sensations that pulsated through me gave me a shock.  And then his kisses
spread to my neck and shoulders.  I kept still.  Had Mrs Holland told him the
results of her examination on me?  What did he know?  I wondered if I should
come right out and ask him.  He moaned gently into my hair and I realised that
it was too late to ask him anything.  Suddenly, his mouth covered mine again
and I felt his tongue force my lips apart.  I panicked slightly, but then
quickly controlled myself.  It had gone too far to stop any of this now.  His
hand slipped to my breast and then down my body to my thigh.  When he pulled my
nightgown up and moved over me, I forced myself to relax.  Everything was all
right, I told myself, this was nothing new to me.  Even so, I turned my head
away, not wanting to see the look in his eyes.

He
eased himself between my legs and entered me easily.  Too easily.  His mouth
was against my ear and I heard him gasp, but whether it was from pleasure or
surprise I had no idea.  If he didn’t know anything before, he certainly knew
something now.

He
raised his head and looked down at me.  “Are you all right?  I’m not hurting
you?”

“I’m
comfortable,” I whispered.

I
wished he would get on with it.

He
started moving slowly at first and I could feel as well as hear his arduous
breathing against my hair.  I closed my eyes, as his thrusts became more urgent
and then I realised that I was enjoying it.  That surprised me.  I didn’t love
this man so how could I find intimacy pleasurable with him?  He pulled himself
up and arched his back.  Suddenly, he gritted his teeth and gave out a muted
cry.  And then he was still.  I could feel his heart beating furiously against
my shoulder and I knew from my experience of married life, that he had been
very restrained.  He had simply done the necessary business, without losing
control or allowing himself to forget what he was there for.

After
a couple of minutes he slid sideways and then rolled onto his back.  We lay
quietly together.

I
heard him blow out a long breath.  “Please say when you want me to leave,” he
said.

“You
don’t have to go yet,” I said softly, shuffling onto my side to face him.

He
turned his head to look at me and seemed surprised.  “You want me to stay?”

“Just
for a little while.  If you want to, of course.”

He
smiled and raised my hand to his lips.  “Then I’ll stay until you go to sleep,”
he said, kissing my fingers.

“I
might not go to sleep,” I whispered.

He
gave that wonderful chuckle that I was beginning to love and in the firelight
he looked so handsome, his profile strong and firm.

“Mrs
Holland says you have to sleep and Mrs Holland knows best.”

It
was then that I knew that Mrs Holland had been a nanny and whose nanny she had
been.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

I
awoke with a gentle tapping on the door.  I turned over and gasped with
surprise.  I really had fallen asleep and in the middle of the day.  My early
mornings with Danny and rushing from lesson to lesson had obviously worn me
out.  I lifted my head and discovered I was alone.

“Come
in,” I called and pulled myself up on the pillows.

Mrs
Holland came in carrying a cup of tea.  She placed it beside me on the table. 
“Time to get up, my dear,” she smiled.  She went out and returned a few seconds
later with a large pitcher.  “There’s some water for you.”  She crossed the
floor and pulled back the lilac curtains.  The sun streamed into the room
making the wallpaper shimmer with a silky sheen.  “It’s a lovely afternoon, but
I think it’s threatening rain for later on.”  She turned to me.  “Now, you get
yourself ready and come down to the parlour.  I’ve made some scones and
sandwiches.  Oh, and my special chocolate gateau.”

I picked
up the cup and saucer and sipped my tea.  I couldn’t help smiling.  Mrs Holland
was behaving as though this was all perfectly normal; like a housekeeper
diligently organising her mistress for the day.  She left me with a swish of
skirts.  It seemed Karl had waited until I had fallen asleep before leaving me
and I felt so grateful for that.  Had he gone immediately, I would have felt
like a whore, but instead, he had behaved impeccably and I wondered how long he
had lain by my side watching me sleep.

Eventually,
I climbed out of bed and lifted my dress from the wardrobe.  My plain
steel-framed fob watch hung from the bodice and I was surprised to see it was
nearly four o’clock.  I washed and dressed and then pinned up my hair.  Pushing
my possessions into the valise, I collected the cup and saucer and left the
room.

At
the bottom of the stairs, I met the maid.  “Shall I take that, miss?” she said,
reaching for the crockery in my hand.  “You can leave your bag by the hat
stand, if you wish.”  I smiled and did as she said.  “Mrs Holland is waiting
for you in the parlour, miss.”

I
opened the door and went into the pink and white room.  Mrs Holland was sitting
on the couch and on the occasional table a wonderful tea had been set out.  A
three-tier stand stood proudly in the centre of the table containing sandwiches
and scones.  On a plate by the side, was a lovely chocolate gateau.

She
patted the seat next to her.  “Come and sit down, my dear.”

I did
so and then the maid came in carrying a steaming pot of tea.  She placed it on
the table and left.

“Does
your maid know what’s happening?” I asked, biting my lip.

Mrs
Holland gave a chuckle.  “I rescued Jane from the clutches of a brothel madam
when she was ten.  She’s seen more than a young girl of her age should see. 
We’re devoted to each other, however, I thought it prudent to tell her only
that Mr Karl is meeting a lady friend and I had agreed that their liaison
should be here.”

“But
she’ll think I’m his mistress.”

Mrs
Holland nodded.  “Perhaps.  But her discretion can be guaranteed.”  She poured
out the tea and then offered me a side plate and napkin.  “Please help
yourself.”

“Is
this how it’s going to be from now on?” I asked, taking a sandwich and munching
into the bread.  I hadn’t realised how hungry I was, but I had only picked at
my luncheon.

“Yes,
my dear.  This is how it’s going to be.  It’ll be a steady routine for the next
few weeks.”

I
gave a sigh.  “I hope Karl isn’t disappointed with me.”

Mrs
Holland seemed bewildered.  “Goodness me, why should he be disappointed with
you?”

“What
happens if I don’t fall pregnant?”

“Let’s
wait and see about that.  You’re healthy and that’s a good sign.”

I
thought for a moment.  “Does his wife want a boy or girl?”

She
tossed her head and for a moment I caught a glimpse of the girl she once was. 
“I don’t think even you have a choice in that.  But to answer your question, my
lady wants a healthy child no matter the sex.”  She took a sandwich and nibbled
it.  “And, of course, she and…Mr Karl want you to be well and come through it
with no complications.”  She looked at me sternly.  “Not that there will be any
complications.  The delivery of the child is in my hands and I will certainly
look after you.”

“You’ll
be my midwife?”

She
nodded.  “Mr Karl and his wife would have it no other way.  They insisted.”

 I
was so pleased that Mrs Holland would attend me when the time came.  The
thought of having a stranger deliver the baby filled me with horror. 

But my
confidence in Mrs Holland didn’t prevent me from being nervous when I met Karl
for the third time, although the routine remained just the same.  I was amazed
how gentle and tender he was, he could have been my husband and as he caressed
me, I found his touch sensual as well as exciting.  I lay under him and pressed
my face against his shoulder, trying to stifle the moans of pleasure and
afterwards, we lay in bed and talked.  I ventured to ask his age again but he
only laughed, chucked me under the chin and said at least one hundred years, so
I decided not to question him further.  I tried to fight sleep, since sleeping
in the afternoon was against my nature and besides, I wanted to stay awake to
enjoy his company.  But he would encourage me to rest and soon I was sleeping
peacefully and when Mrs Holland came into the room to stir me from my sleep, he
was gone and I felt desolate.

Our
next meeting was on a Sunday.  Mrs Holland had checked with me to confirm that
that day was convenient and I had told her it was.  I went to church with Nan
as usual and then told her that I had lessons that afternoon.

“On a
Sunday?” she said, frowning.  “You’re working so hard.  Don’t tire yourself
out.  You’ll make yourself ill.”

“I’m
perfectly all right and the more pupils I have the more money I’ll earn.”

“I’ll
have to tell Gwilym that you won’t be joining us for luncheon.”

Guilt
swept through me.  “Give him my love and tell him I’ll see him next week.”

“You
know what he’ll say?”

“What’s
that?”

“That
you have a secret lover.”

A
lump came into my throat and I tried to swallow.  “Nanette Asquith!  How dare
you suggest such a thing?  My brother would never think I have a secret lover.”

“Perhaps
not, but I’m starting to think it,” she laughed.

I
felt uncomfortable after that and wanted the whole business finished with.  I
wondered what would happen if I didn’t fall pregnant.  Would we have to go
through it all again?  Somehow I thought not.  I couldn’t imagine Karl’s wife
agreeing to that.

The following
day the weather changed and I awoke that Monday morning on the first day of
October to torrential rain beating against the windowpane.  It was dismal
outside, the dark clouds stretching over the city and seeming to go on
endlessly.  As the sun rose, it was obvious we would see little of it.  I
hurried to my first lesson with my winter coat wrapped snugly round me and my
umbrella held firmly over my head.  It was such a shame, since October could be
a lovely month when the golden leaves fluttered down from the trees.  But
everything was depressing, the leaves that were already on the ground, turning to
dirty mush under my feet.

I
left my lesson and travelled into the city.  It would be Gwilym’s birthday at
the end of the month and I wanted to buy him something special, my mind
settling on a good stethoscope.  That’s if I could afford one.  He had only twelve
months left of his training and a phenomenal gift would show how proud I was of
him.

The
shop was filled with glass display cabinets, all showing the glinting
instruments needed for the medical profession.  The assistant was very helpful
and placed a sample of stethoscopes on the counter in front of me.  I shuddered
at the price tags. 

“Is
it for someone special?” he asked, his small, blue eyes watching me curiously.

I
nodded.  “My brother.”  I picked up an instrument and examined it.

“In
my experience, a really good stethoscope is the best one to buy.”  He adjusted
his tie and smiled.  “It takes a long time for a doctor to learn how to
recognise the sounds of the body and once he does, he usually likes to use the
same instrument.  I’ve known the most prestigious doctors in Harley Street
still using the stethoscopes they had as students.”

I bit
my lip.  “What would you recommend?”

He
smiled again and brought another instrument out of the cabinet.  “This is a
Galante stethoscope, new on the market just this year and the very best.  It’s
expensive but your brother will be using this in twenty…no thirty years’ time,
I guarantee it.”

It
didn’t look any different from the others, so I had to take his word for it.

“How
much?”

“Eight
guineas.”

I
tried not to look too shocked.  Suddenly, I remembered that I would be
receiving twelve hundred pounds very shortly and looked at the stethoscope
sitting proudly on the counter. What would happen if I dipped into my savings
for it?  It would make quite a dent, but surely that wouldn’t matter.  I longed
to see Gwilym’s face when he opened his gift.  I debated with myself.  I had
had no trouble conceiving Danny.  This baby would be just as easy.  I had
nothing to worry about.

I
hurried to the bank and drew out what I needed and then ran back to the shop to
purchase the much-desired medical equipment.  The assistant placed it in its
box and wrapped it carefully while I eagerly told him about my adored brother
and how hard he had worked all these years.  He nodded and smiled and I
realised he must have heard a similar story a million times before.

When
I came out of the shop, the rain was relentless.  I had over an hour before my
next lesson so I crossed Trafalgar Square to the National Art Gallery, shaking
my umbrella vigorously before I went through the massive oak and steel doors. 
The man at the desk gave me a pamphlet and I flicked through it.  There didn’t
seem to be many visitors in the large building and my footsteps echoed
mournfully through the empty rooms.

I
wandered slowly round the paintings and portraits, studying each one.  And then
I came to a huge canvas and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.  It depicted
the scene at a pit-head after a disaster, when a rescue was in progress.  I
glanced round the gallery and saw that two rows of chairs had been placed
back-to-back in the middle of the room and I made myself comfortable.  I
scrutinised the painting.  It was a bleak portrayal but so accurate.  I could
see the grime of the area, the large wheel, the wheelhouse and the buildings
associated with a mine.  A large group of figures surrounded the pit-head, the
faces of the women pensive and strained, one girl clinging onto another, her
hand over her mouth in horror.  The men looked determined as they stood outside
the lift, waiting to enter and be taken down to see what they could do.  Their
Davy lamps seemed to be the only bright part of the painting, small pinpoints
of light in an otherwise dark and gloomy canvas.

“Which
painting do you prefer, then?”  His voice from behind me made me start.

I
turned my head and gasped with surprise.  “What are you doing here?”

He
shrugged.  “It’s a public building.”

“Have
you been following me?”

“I
saw you running into the gallery and decided I would like to get out of the
rain too.”

“I
don’t think we should be talking.  Aren’t you worried about your reputation.”

I
knew he was smiling.  “I’ve met a lovely young lady in the art gallery and I’m
discussing the merits of the paintings on display.  Now what’s the problem with
that?”

“I think
you’re breaking the rules.”

“Rules
are meant to be broken.”  To my utter amazement he stood and walked round to
sit next to me.  He was dressed in a warm coat and carried his hat and gloves
in his hand.  And then I remembered my wedding ring.  I quickly glanced down
and realised I still had my gloves on.  I breathed a sigh of relief and my gaze
swept round the gallery.  We were quite alone.  “What have you got there?” he
asked, indicating the brown parcel on my lap.

“Just
a birthday gift.”

“For
whom?”

I
smiled mischievously.  “Can’t say.”

“Well,
it can’t be for me.  My birthday’s not until…So, what are you looking at?”

“This
one,” I said, gesturing to the large canvas in front of us.

I
watched his face as he studied it.  His blue-green eyes became darker and the
muscles in his jaw tensed.

“Ah,
I see,” he nodded.  “You must find this very harrowing?”

I
sighed.  “Yes, but it’s so accurate.”

He
turned to look at me.  “The people working in such conditions must be
incredibly brave.”

“And
all to bring the coal from the bowels of the earth so that we can throw it on a
fire,” I murmured.